


Comm-Sensual

by mudkipwrites



Category: Campaign (Podcast)
Genre: Alien Biology, Leenik Geelo Feet, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Podcast: Campaign (Star Wars), Public Masturbation, Radio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-05 23:02:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21216494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mudkipwrites/pseuds/mudkipwrites
Summary: Tryst’s broadcasted seduction is Leenik’s long-awaited opportunity.





	Comm-Sensual

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coasterchild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coasterchild/gifts).

> I wrote this for an artist I admire, in hopes that they might feel just a little bit better during a challenging medical season! (Based on Campaign: Star Wars: Ep. 94)

Still sweating and panting from their brawl with the stormtroopers on the bridge, Bacta and Leenik are awaiting Tryst’s signal. Any minute now, their third member of the party will open his share of their comm link and relay his status on Lieutenant Zoth. As always, Tryst’s part in their mission is simple: _seduction._ Acquire target; woo target; extract information. 

_Easy, _ Leenik thinks: _I__f Tryst keeps his focus. _

Because, Captain Trystan Valentine has a way of...._ getting into _ situations over his head. (Grizelle, for example. Aava Arek, for another.) From what Leenik’s heard from local intel, Lt. Samantha Zoth is something of a ‘situation’ herself. According to their information, she may even be a _ match _ for the infamous, self-proclaimed sex-criminal that is Valentine. 

N-Not that Leenik’s ever thought _ that way _about the captain! 

(_Not _ his own limbs entwined with Tryst’s thick, tan-skinned body... _ Not _ his heart heaving against Tryst’s expanse of shoulders and chest.... _ Not _his snoot dripping from the taste of Tryst’s sweet-smelling breath...)

“Alright, Buddy.” Bacta says, interrupting Leenik’s thoughts. “We better get ready. Gotta get to the rendezvous point. He pushes off the wall where they’ve been catching their breath, and he makes a searching look look down the hallway. “Any time now, Tryst should--”

The sound of a buttery, familiar voice crackles over the connection. Leenik’s every anxiety ceases.

“--Well, then, ma’am...” 

Tryst’s voice always this hypnotic effect on him. While working a job, Tryst goes from himbo to...something else entirely. On the job, he’s always so confident, so suave, so _ sexy. _ Every ounce of that ‘smuggler’s charm’ is directed full-blast at one target, and everyone else in the general vicinity (including Leenik) takes radiation damage. He loves to hear it. 

“...If you want to practice ‘sword training’ with me sometime, I’d be honored.”

To an outsider, Tryst’s words are polite and unassuming. However, Leenik knows how this whole thing unfolds--and this gives Tryst’s words a spicy, _ rude _ edge to them. It’s _ captivating. _ Leenik suddenly realizes that something _ hot _ is happening in his belly. He’s feeling a swooping, _ nauseous _ sensation. Judging by the way the captain’s voice has gone low and husky, Leenik guesses that he must be at about Stage 4 of the seduction. It seems that, for Leenik, it’s working. 

Bacta appears less amused. 

“Oh, _ Force!” _ He groans (in what is most likely annoyance).“Tryst? We can hear you. _ Loud _and clear over here. Meet at the rendezvous? Snicklefritz.” 

However, it is as if Captain Trystan Valentine does not hear him. He simply continues. “If you’re not having your meeting tonight, ma’am—sorry, I don’t mean to presume—we could practice. Right here. Tonight?” 

Unbidden, and powerfully, Leenik imagines a bare-skinned Tryst Valentine. He is standing over Leenik, one arm braced above him. His lips are red and puffy from kisses. His cheeks are flushed, his pupils blown wide, and his posture is screaming _ sex. _The Tryst of Leenik’s imagination leans down, lips parted, and Leenik’s heart races. 

Bacta remains resolutely irritated. (_ Could it be all of that weird, clone training? What did they do there, to make him un-reactive to even disruptions like Tryst? _) “Tryst? This isn’t very funny. Confirm that you can hear me? Snicklefritz!”

Bacta’s rising impatience is countered by Leenik’s rising arousal. An itchy heat is rushing up and down his long, lithe body, and he feels a strange kind of buzzing in his ears. _ Tryst. _Leenik imagines that mouth moving towards his face. 

“I know swords like mine can be…_ intimidating _ .” Tryst is now purring to Zoth--and, indirectly, Bacta and Leenik. “It’s big, and unwieldy. But really, there’s _ nothing _ here to be afraid of.” 

Bacta curses, and Leenik gasps. The comm must be broken or something. As the sound of Tryst’s heavy breathing continues, Leenik feels his whole body flushing in horrified pleasure. Yes, they have reached this point of broadcast seduction before, in which Tryst lays out words of honey-sweet bargaining just before pouncing; but now, they are_ rapidly _ approaching new, dangerous territory! Because, as all three of them know fully-well and have agreed: _ Before engaging in active seduction, Captain Valentine is required to check-in with his team, and cut of their shared connection. _It’s Clipboard. It’s Kanan. 

_ “Kriff!” _Bacta swears--and, for a moment, Leenik thinks it’s because their arousal is equal. But then he sees Bacta drawing out his blaster-rifle, Delilah, and turning in defensive stance towards the hallway. 

“Leenik, _ kriff _it, we’ve got company!” He yanks the offensive comm out of his ear, and drops the thing into Leenik’s open hand. “Try to find some cover!” Bacta calls over his shoulder, not so much looking back as he charges out to defend them. 

Leenik stares after him, dumbfounded in the moment. The danger both inside and around him is a smothering blow to his senses, and in this moment, he just feels strange and helpless. Then, a voice, electrifying, wrenches him out from his stupor.

“I was thinking of...._ something else _.” 

It’s a sultry, female voice this time. Close enough to Tryst’s comm (and his body, his _ face _ ) that it picks up her words. “Locker room,” she demands, “ _ Now!” _

Her voice is rough, the rasping sound of deep-throating and cigarettes. Leenik’s pretty sure that, if he was into female-type creatures, this would have done something significant for him. However, it is Tryst’s rumbling, thirsty response that makes his legs give out and go to jelly: 

_ “MMMMmmm!” _

The sound goes directly to Leenik’s groin. His chest tightens, skin flushes, cock hardens, thick and yellow. He feels himself panting out loud, needing breaths, and is grateful that their side, at least, of the comm is broken. 

“Tryst!” Leenik moans, backing into the corner of the hallway. Somehow, his fingers scrabble against what appears to be the wedge of a supply-closet doorway and he backs inside, nearly tripping. “_ Tryst.” _

From the other end of the line, there is a sudden, sharp intake of breath. 

Leenik freezes. It is almost as if...that noise came in time, was _ responding _ to, _ what Leenik said. _ But…He _ can’t... _ he _ wouldn’t... _and isn’t it broken?...

For a horrified moment, Leenik braces himself. He prays that Tryst didn’t hear him. Then--

“MMmm! Mmm, ooh, _ YES!” _ The reply from the other end of the line is definitely Tryst. His voice has taken on a new, heightened quality. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve been _ waiting _for that.” 

In the darkness of the supply closet, Leenik blinks wildly. _ He’s not...he’s not saying...not...responding to me? _The thought overtakes him: Tryst, his hands working open his jumpsuit; Tryst, his mouth pressing against his; Tryst, his tongue forcing its way in, out, and around him--

“_Ah!” _Leenik gasps. 

He hears Tryst chuckle. 

“_That’s _it.” His voice is warm and encouraging. “Yeah. Don’t hold back now, baby.” 

Several thoughts tangle themselves through Leenik’s head. _ One: _ He’s on a mission. _ Two: _ Bacta is somewhere out there in a fire-fight. _ Three: _ The comm may (or may not) be broken. _ Four: _ Tryst may (or may not) be speaking to him. _ Five: _ There is a standing, clipboard protocol for this. _ Sex: _ For this??? _ Seven: _ He can have this. He _ wants _ this. 

Leenik moans. 

For better or worse, he _ wants _ this. He has been fantasizing about Tryst for _ weeks _ now, ever since that soul-melting kiss back on BHIKKE. And he’ll be _ kriffed _if he’s going to let the single, only opportunity for him to ever experience Tryst in this way slip away from him. 

“_Okay.” _Leenik says. He leans back against the tall, standing cabinets of Verpine cleaner, and fumbles against the zip of his jumpsuit. “Okay, yeah, I won’t.” 

It may just be his imagination, but Leenik thinks he hears a deep moan of approval at his words. 

“Y_eah!” _ Tryst’s voice comes from the speaker. “Yeah, oh, yes! God! I’m _ all _about that!” 

His stomach constricts with a nervous, delighted pleasure. 

Leenik allows his eyelids to flutter closed, and he slowly begins to work his hands into his jumpsuit. He slides one hand up and down his soft, scaley belly, rubbing up and down to create friction. Slowly, he drags his hand up his abdominals and to his chest, begins fingering a suction-cup nipple. 

“Ah!” Leenik hisses. It feels so _ good, _ so _ bad, _to be doing this now. He should be out, joining the firefight. He should be gone, getting to the rendezvous. He should be turning the comm off, like they all decided-- 

“Ringest _ God, _ you’re _ hot!” _ Tryst praises from their shared connection. “Oh my _ god, _ do you know what I want you to do to yourself? Do you know what I _ wish _ that I could do to _ you? _” 

Dutifully, Leenik pinches at one areola. His fingers and nipple meld together, convex. “_ Hmmmnnn!” _ He hums out the breath. It’s so much better, more _ vibrant, _ to touch himself while he can hear Tryst’s every breath. 

“Oh yeah!” Tryst says from the comm’s other end. “_ Yes. _ Baby, you _ know _what I like!” 

He talks like a trashy pornstar, bit as it’s _ Tryst, _ Leenik almost _ expects _ it. Groaning, Leenik’s head rolls back as he pinches the other nipple. Right now, he’s _ connected _to Tryst. However distantly, however intimate, this device has provided Leenik with the illusion of connection that he’s been craving with his ravishing captain. Nipples now fully rigid and peaking, Leenik yearns to give his hard cock some attention. 

“Do…” Leenik starts. _ In for a credit, in for a...credit. _“D-do you want me to. T-to. Touch myself?” 

The naughtiness of the words make him flush, even alone in the darkness. Leenik wishes that he could curl under a blanket, but finds the cloak of darkness sufficient. 

“_ Yes _!” Tryst demands, his voice rough from arousal.

It’s enough to make Leenik begin to imagine. 

In his mind, Tryst is on him, is grinding against him. Tryst’s erection is hard and insistent, punching Leenik’s soft belly over and over again with each thrust. As Leenik takes his own cock in hand, Tryst’s hips snap harder and with more enthusiasm against him. 

“Oh,_ yes! _ ” Tryst encourages. “I _ want _ this! I want this from _ you!” _

“_ Tryst.” _ Leenik groans softly through the connection. He does not know if the captain can hear him: if the device is broken, or muted, or being ignored. He doesn’t care. He wants this. He _ needs _ this. “ _ Tryst _ ...I a-also...I...w-want this...want... _ you _...” 

The timing is right, and a growl comes from over the speaker. It’s deep, and possessive, and it sounds like it’s coming from low in Tryst’s belly. “_ Yessss!...” _

Leenik whimpers and begins stroking himself, swiping his gingers through weeping pre-cum. As he brings his hand all the way down his long shaft, he hears himself wetly panting Tryst’s name. 

As if in response, he hears, tight and breathy: “I’m right here. I’m right with you. _ Yes.” _

Matching Tryst’s pants, Leenik begins a rhythm. 

With each inhale, he pumps his fist down his slick member; with each exhale, he rotates and strokes himself upward. Each touch, each moment, elicits a gasp. Leenik feels the suction of his fingers catch on thick veins of his cock and_ trembles _, riding out the waves of heat, tension, and pleasure. 

“T-tryst?” 

In the darkness, he can imagine it, as if he is truly there: Tryst, his hands on Leenik’s face; Tryst, his hands tracing down to Leenik’s waist; Tryst, his knees bowed down in front of him boldly; Tryst, his mouth stretched obscenely on his hardness.“_ T-Tryst!” _ Leenik moans, hips rising and falling. 

“Yes.” Tryst is saying. “Yes, _ baby! _ Do it for me.”

In his chest, Leenik’s heart flips. He’s always wanted a pet-name, something affectionate chose by a lover. Sometimes, on those longer nights by himself, he imagined that Tryst called him “sweetheart” or “angel.” He loves the feeling of being cherished and cared for. He wishes that all of this was real, that he could truly be held close by someone who wants him. 

“Ahh!” Leenik gasps. 

He’s thrusting into his palm now with earnest, each up and down slick from natural lubrication. He twists his hand when it reaches the top, wringing the head of another wet bead. “Oh, oh, _ Tryst, _I wish you would--” 

“You _ like _ this!” Tryst says from the other end. “Kriff. This feels good. You want _ more _of this from me. And I want to give it to you” 

Images are rolling fast through Leenik’s head: Tryst’s long, dark eyelashes, dripping with sweat. Tryst’s soft, pouty lips drawn open by his. Tryst deft, delicate hands, kneading into his flesh. It’s _ horrible _ . It’s _ wonderful. _ It’s everything he’s ever hoped it would be. Leenik’s sensitive body is resounding with feeling. He needs it to _ stop. _ He needs it to _ never end. _

“_ God _ .” Tryst says, voice now whiny and pleading. “Then, go on, and _ take it. _ Take it from me! Oh, Ringest God! I want you! _ Inside of me!” _

He nearly chokes on his intake of breath. 

Leenik hadn’t quite pictured it this way. Certainly, his rodian form could allow it both ways, so he hadn’t quite made up his mind about preferences (_ why should he? _). In his mind, he had always thought of Tryst as dominant. But, he also knows that he’s such a cockslut... 

The image of Tryst, writhing beneath him, his flesh thick and willing and open and wet, does _ more _than bring Leenik close to the edge.

_ “Oh!” _ Leenik gasps, eyes flying open with shock. “Oh, _ oh, Tryst, _I’m going to, I have to--” 

Tryst gives a loud, wet-sounding gasp. It’s the sort of sound that Leenik’s always imagined Tryst would make, while his muscle is shaking all around Leenik. “_ God! _ ” he begs from the other end of the line. ( _ If he really cannot hear Leenik, it’s a work of the Force how well they are matching. _) 

“Oh, god! Please! God, just, please, come for me! Will you?” 

At the sound of Tryst’s thrilling request, he releases. 

It’s a shocking and powerful thing. Seizing up, Leenik sobs, and folds over himself. He pulses streams of white cum over his armored jumpsuit. His heartbeat thunders loudly in his ears, and his knees are quaking and trembling around him. Feeling like his body is slowly unravelling, Leenik gives delicious, satiated sigh. As he comes down, his body melts against the cool floor. He feels the comm fall out with a _ plink. _

Loose-limbed and dreamy-eyed, Leenik curls his arms around himself. From the comm that came dislodged from his ear, Leenik hears violent banging and crunching. (He suspects that, after their round of battle-sex, Tryst and Zoth have resumed their fighting). Also, he hears the fading of blaster-fire in the distance (It must be that Bacta has taken them down). Yawning and tucking himself back together, Leenik allows himself _ just one moment _ forget the mess of his stomach; the mess of this mission; the mess of his feelings for Valentine. Instead, he takes a few moments to simply bask in his feelings, and imagine that Tryst is lying here with him. 

………………………

It has been nearly a week since their Verpine encounter. 

On board the newly-upgraded Mynock, all things are working, and this gives the crew an unexpected, luxurious break. Their first stop is Batuu, dropping off Neemo in a discreet location so that he might continue his (romantic) rebellion writings. Their next destination is Iloh, making good on promises to Tamlin about that beach-planet vacation. 

It’s a long journey, and Tryst spends the time making margaritas, hosting fashion-shows and playing the piano. He never once mentions what occured over the comm device, and Leenik suspects that it was all, truly, one-sided. Things return to normal: Bacta weight-lifting and swinging the clipboard; Lyntel, charting maps and tending engine chemicals; Leenik, reading and pining the captain. 

It’s another late night, and Leenik is spending some time in the fresher. (As there’s not much to do these days, he’s taking another hot shower to pass the time.) The Verpine really outdid themselves with all these updates--and his favorites include the multi-faceted, 360-degree shower-heads. In which Leenik (a naturally amphibious being) can stand anywhere and receive gentle, multi-colored rainfall from any angle. He turns to the side, scrubbing under one arm, absently wondering if he will sleep tonight. The ghost of Tryst Valentine’s smile has been haunting his dreams. 

Leenik starts when he hears a soft, gentle knock against the fresher door.

His green-blue brow wrinkles. It’s nearly one in the morning! The only person stupid enough to stay up this late is Bacta, and _ he’s _been showing an extraordinary amount of willpower lately, and to trying and reduce his lesai usage (“for Tamlin”.)

Turning off the knobs, Leenik steps out and reaches for a towel. 

“Just a minute!” He calls, rubbing himself down. He begins with the tall, dewey fronds on his head, and works his way down to his scaly, smooth shoulders. With careful movements, he towels down his navel, his hips, works around his legs and thighs, and, finally, attends to his feet.* 

The knock at the door sounds again. 

Leenik sighs with a mild annoyance. _ Why would anyone be interrupting him here? _

“Look, pal, it’s _ one _ in the _ morning!” _ He calls. _ “ _Give me a minute, will you? Then it’s all yours!” 

He goes back to toweling between his marvelous, suction-cupped toes, until he hears the doorlock click and swing open. 

“What the--” He yelps, feeling himself flushing yellow-green. “Lock-picking, _ really?! _ Don’t you know what _ privacy _means? I--” 

He stops abruptly as he sees Captain Tryst Valentine. 

Leenik feels his heart jump and twist. _ Kriff. What? Him? Here?? Now??? _In his belly, affection pools sweet and heavy. It has the same effect as consuming a rich desert, and Leenik feels his eyelids growing heavy. He hopes that his blushing face will not betray him. 

“Hey.” 

“Wha--why did--_ Tryst _!” 

A smile spreads across Tryst’s handsome face. He does not seem to have arrived here on accident. 

“How _ rude!” _Leenik exclaims, hearing his own voice quaver. (He silently thanks himself that he brought such a large towel; shifting it slightly over his angular hips, Leenik does his best to retain modesty). “Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” 

That only broadens Tryst’s smile. 

“Privacy, ‘Nik?” He grins. “Like the kind _ you _ gave _ me _?” He steps into the fresher-room, and the door quietly hisses shut behind him. 

Leenik freezes. 

Immediately, his body goes on full-alarm. His heart goes to pounding, blood races, breath growing shallow and rapid. _ Oh. OH! OH, KRIFF! _ Tryst _ cannot _ be implying what he thinks he is right now. Awkwardly, Leenik pulls the towel tighter around his bony hips. 

“W-what are you _ talking _ about?!” 

Tryst leans casually against the dripping wall of the fresher. 

“I’m _ talking _ ,” Tryst says, “about our little _ adventure. _” He lifts a thick brow. “You know. Back in Verpine territory?” 

Leenik gapes. 

Not only is Tryst possibly confronting him about..._ that! _ ...he is doing it while wearing his favorite kimono...his _ seduction _kimono. The pink, blue and white one. It’s unbound at the waist, and the belt is hanging around there quite loosely. 

He thinks he might faint. 

“W-we had a lot of adventures, Tryst!” Leenik says, all high-pitched squeaking. He _ knows _ that his voice sounds shifty as hell, but he _ can’t _ look at Tryst now--not when he could be, _ might _be implying-- As he looks away, flushing, he hopes that his gulp is not horribly audible. “D-do you mean the goop-pool? Or the ninjas? Or Sadhet and the kissing?” 

He searches to look somewhere, _ anywhere, _ except the human approaching. Because Tryst is approaching. In fact, he has crossed the space between the doorway and fresher. And he is now so close to Leenik that he can nearly feels his body heat. Leenik forces his eyelids closed, not wanting them to betray the raw _ wanting _ inside of him. It was humiliating enough to have Tryst encounter him in the fresher, laid bare; he could not _ stand _to have Tryst read his desires back to him! 

Tryst chuckles. The sound vibrates in Leenik’s belly. 

“Kissing _ Sadhet _?” One hand comes home to rest on Leenik’s cheek. 

Leenik gasps, his eyes flying open. He sees Tryst is standing before him, all beautiful and charming, but he does not believe it. He feels like he’s trembling.

“That’s racist.” Leenik whispers.

He’s run out of air. 

“I meant _ me_,” Tryst asks, leaning forward. “I meant _ you _ kissing _ me.” _

Leenik’s head spins._ Is...is he playing games with me? _ Leenik can remember each and every kiss from Tryst he’s ever had, with exceptional, heartbreaking detail. The moment, the feeling, the taste, the texture. Whether they had been on a mission, or just for a distraction, Leenik _ could never _ forget such a world-changing moment. And so he knows, for a fact, that Tryst had not kissed him. _ What is he thinking? _

“D-did I kiss you?” Leenik ask carefully. He doesn’t want to break this--this moment of with Tryst. 

Tryst quarks a dark eyebrow. “Didn’t you?” And then he leans forward--and _ kisses _him. 

It’s…_ . _ It’s _ everything! _ It’s so much _ more _ , so much _ better, _ than Leenik could ever remember. Even better than BHIKKE. Even better than the comm link. It’s--thousand mornings, waking up slowly with Kaff. It’s-- playing fetch with Tony, holding close young Tamlin. It’s--shooting aces with Bacta, sparring with Lyn. It’s _ pleasure. _ It’s _ family. _It’s home, and belonging. 

“_ Leenik,” _ Tryst states, voice full of wonder. Both hands are cradling his face now. Tryst licks his own, thick lips, running his tongue over to taste them. “ _ God, _ ” he sighs fondly. “That was even _ better _in person!” 

Leenik blinks slowly. “In person…” he whispers. “Tryst. You mean that--on the comm, you were--”He inhales sharply. Tryst is sliding his hands down to his shoulders, over his waist, and his gripping _ hard _on the wings of his pelvis. As Tryst applies pressure to Leenik’s hips, they back up against the wall of the shower. 

“Leenik.” Tryst says, and Leenik _ melts. _ Tryst’s using his work-voice--the _ seduction _ one--and _ it’s. For. Him. _“_Baby. _Let’s stop pretending?” 

It can’t be possible. And yet, it _ is. _ Here they are: pressed together, alone, in the fresher. In the dead of night, with Tryst touching him, saying his name. With gentle, loving reverence. It’s so much of _ everything _ Leenik’s ever wanted. And he doesn’t dare to presume it’s reality. 

“Tryst?” Leenik asks, his voice quavering. He feels his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He’s been holding them back for _ so long. _ He doesn’t want to reveal his own pathetic need, his little-big crush, in front of Tryst, to only get rejected. _ But. _ Tryst _ had _ to come to find him _ here, _ and seems like he’s wanting--

“Of _ course _ I knew.” Tryst murmurs gently. He brings his lips to rest against Leenik’s neck, and begins softly and steadily sucking kisses. “I’ve been waiting for this _ forever.” _He bites down on Leenik's tender skin. "But you didn't say anything. And if I didn't do something? I thought I'd go _mad!" _

Leenik groans, and he feels his knees threaten to buckle. _ Tryst _ has also been wanting _ him?! _To make the_ first_ _move?_It doesn’t seem right! There’s got to be a joke here! Leenik tries to give a shaky laugh, but all that comes out is a rattling sob. _Oh, Force. _

Tryst’s hands gently pull Leenik’s forehead to meet his. They breath for a moment, and then, Leenik opens his eyes. Tryst is looking at him with unrestrained fondness.“Could you--do you still want to--” Tryst flushes. “‘Nik. Did you really mean it?” 

Leenik is wholly bowled-over by a blushing, timid Trystan Valentine. It occurs to him then that this whole _ pining _ thing might actually be more two-way than he thinks.It makes no sense to him: the confident, rock-headed, _ lovely _ Tryst Valentine, waiting and wanting for _ him, _ as he is: Damaged goods. Reckless rodian. But here he is, there they are: reaching for each other. Tryst’s intentions are clear, from the words on his mouth to the desperation of his body language. Steadily, a feeling of joy overtakes him. 

“Mmm, I _ think _ so...” Leenik says playfully, tilting his head. “...But I think I may need a refresher.”

He slips his arms around Tryst’s close, heated body, threading his hands beneath his loose kimono, and pulls him in until they are flush together. 

Tryst’s eyes go wide with shock, and then, just as quickly, they drift into heavy-hooded desire. Leenik pushes the rim of his snoot against Tryst, and they fall into a deep and passionate kiss. 

It goes on for some time.

Leenik grips the chords of woven fat and muscle in Tryst’s rippling back, and he feels the press of their slick chests together. His own heart feels like a small bird beating against his ribcage; Tryst’s is pounding, loud and _ hard, _ like a drum. And _ speaking _ of hard--Leenik is now feeling Tryst’s growing erection, thick and heavy and glorious against his thigh. As they push back into the wall of the fresher, Leenik hears himself groan with satisfaction. 

Tryst pulls out of it, chuckling. “_ Well _ ,” he declares, “We _ are _in a fresher!” 

Leenik blinks at him. His world is all swirling galaxies, colors bursting, bright stars-colliding. 

“A refresher,” Tryst jokes lamely. “You know. You said, ‘a refresher.’ And, like. We’re in a fresher? So, I--”

Tryst gasps as Leenik gives a powerful thrust against him (as much to shut him up, as with building passion). With a hiss, Tryst stops laughing, his dark eyelashes fluttering. “Okay, _ okay. _ ” He says, reaching for him. “But this time, can I, just. _ Please. _Let me hear it?” 

For the second time tonight, Leenik pauses and stares at him, dumbfounded. 

“Tell me,” Tryst begs. “_Please_, Leenik. tell me with _words_. It’s okay? You want me? Let’s do this? You like it?" 

Leenik is overcome with fondness for this man. Yes, Tryst is _ stupid: _ he runs into danger, exaggerates his abilities, uses his looks for leverage. But he’s _ compassionate. _ In all his seductions, Tryst _ never _ proceeds without explicit, enthusiastic consent. And even though he is right here, ready, with a grateful Leenik--his wanting clear and hard as evidence--Tryst is making the time to _ hear _Leenik’s words, loud and clear, so that neither goes through muddiness again. 

“_ Yes.” _Leenik says, gazing back at Tryst. "Yes. I want this. I want _you. _So much." He kisses Tryst. "I like this." 

Tryst grins and, _ kriff it, _ bodies are happening.

_“Good!" _His fingers dig into Leenik’s flesh, and they both sigh. "Good, yeah. Then let's get to it." 

If Leenik was not so desperately in love with the man, he would probably roll his eyes in dismayed pleasure. 

………………………

**Author's Note:**

> *his LEENIK GEELO FEET. 
> 
> If you liked this, you can follow me / request a fic, beta-reading!  
>Twitter @Ch0colateFr0g  
>Instagram @ch0c0late.fr0g


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